Jack 'N' Lawson
by MorbidOptimist
Summary: Jack and the Cheerleader have been talking and it has them in knots; Commander Shepard helps them set things straight and things get good enough.


**So I own nothing... just borrowing a few characters that's all.**

**no need to sue me, it's just a drabble.**

**not even a good one.**

** but i had to get it out of my head. **

* * *

Shepard was sat on the edge of the cot; far enough away to give Jack her needed space, but close enough so that the biotic didn't feel alone. Finding a good distance between the two, the Commander felt, would have been tricky if it weren't for all her years in the Reds and learning how to read people. She used to never get as far as the doorway without a crass "_Fuck you_" from the biotic, but as she slowly gained the ex-subject's trust she slowly worked her way closer. Never closer than necessary, but never out of reach if she was needed. She liked to think Jack appreciated it, in her own nearly feral way; not that Shepard minded, she had been there too once. Still was in her own opinion, though Liara was likely to disagree. Maybe that was why the shaven haired convict wanted to see her in the dead of night the Commander thought, Jack probably felt that she could relate, which was a good sign.

"What'cha need?" she asked; short and direct, but without demand. If she ever 'demanded' then the young biotic woman would snap shut, snarl and withdraw, and whatever progress they were making would move four steps back. Commands if important or relevant were expected and allowed yes, but demanding anything personal would only get her smeared across a bulkhead. Shepard didn't mind though, it was easy for her to work out other people's problems, to fix other people's mistakes, to mop up the messes others left behind. It was why she was the one slated to save the universe after all, well, more or less anyway. Kelly could handle most of the crew fine enough, but she and Chambers both knew that Jack would never tell her _shit_, even if her life depended on it. The troubled tattoo covered girl just didn't trust doctors. Of _any_ sort. Much to Dr. Chakwas' annoyance. It had taken Samara's biotics, her ordering, and Grunt's strength to get her in the infirmary to patch her up. She somehow doubted that Jack currently needed medical attention however.

Jack sat with her legs pulled up against her chin, her hands on her kneecaps; reminding the commander of child. Jack was, in many ways, a child with dangerous tendencies -more dangerous than even Grunt, who was currently doing quite well now come to think of it, now that they knew he was just going through puberty. The two seemed to get along quite well in their own slightly dysfunctional way now that the Commander thought of it, battling at odd hours throughout the ship and crushing their enemies with maniacal glee… The thought brought a small smile to her face; her 'kids' maybe deranged and deadly, but she still took pride in them as their Commander and a slightly maternalistic friend who would burn down the entire universe right with them if given reason to. Shepard seriously doubted that Grunt or their shared bloodlust were the cause of the problem, or at least, she hoped it wasn't.

Instead of guessing further, Shepard sat silently, her question still ringing in the air, knowing Jack would speak when she was ready and only then.

As if hearing her Commander's internal assessment Jack stiffened, her back straightened and she chewed her bottom lip until it bled. That particular action helped to calm her, Shepard knew; that didn't make the slight nausea of seeing her teammate's blood any less though. No matter how long she fought or how many people she gunned down, the sight of her own, covered in blood, would always make her heat skip a beat and her stomach churn.

"Cheerleader…" Jack began. As if that one word alone summed up and explained everything perfectly. Perhaps it did. Shepard frowned slightly, hadn't she already worked out that problem? She had been certain her XO and Jack had laid aside their differences for the duration of the mission. She had even told Lawson point blank that her comments had been out of line and downright demeaning. She had almost been about to throw the woman out of the airlock but as it was, she had chosen to talk to them both instead and there hadn't been anymore incidents on the ship that she knew about. Perhaps she would check in with EDI and Kasumi later…

"She's fucking…" Jack began again before trailing off once more. Her face contorted in rage and she pounded her fists against her cot, blue biotics searing up her arms before fading down again.

"Did she say something to you? Do you want me to talk to her?"

"NO!" Jack shouted, startling the Commander. She cursed and shook her head. Clearly this was going to be a little harder than either of them wanted.

"Tell me Jack."

The pixie faced girl grimaced, curses and mumbling still spilling from her flush lips, but her face lost its anger and she soon sighed. She wrung her hands and Shepard could clearly see the young woman's muscles tensing repeatedly.

"She's… I. _Fuck._ Fuck Shepard, I don't know what the hell is going on anymore. Damnit," she spat, wrapping her arm around her shoulder. She looked at the Commander who nodded for her to continue; reassured that her words would not be seen as weak, Jack continued on, "We kissed Shepard. Not even fucking sex or anything. Just… just kissed. Didn't even make the bitch bleed. A-and we talked. Sort of, she continued, rubbing her scalp, "It's fucking complicated. Confusing. I don't know if I fucking hate her guts or…or if I fucking don't. I fucking blame you for this Shepard. You and your fucking feelings and crap. It's fucking bullshit. _Fucking bullshit._ I should have killed the Cerberus bitch when I had the chance. Why the fuck did you make me let her go?"

"If I remember correctly, I made you both let each other go. For the mission. I can't exactly tell you guys how to live your life after we stop those Collectors mind you."

"Yeah… fucking Collectors. Fucking Reapers. Cocksucking Cerberus. Fuck 'em all. Just fuck 'em all…" the ex convict grumbled.

"That's the general plan."

"And she's fucking part of it too," Jack seethed, venom dripping from her blue glowing arms, "Like we can fucking be around each other. Fuck that. We fucking hate each other. Like hell we can just…we can just…"

"What?"

"Kiss Shepard! How the fuck can that fucking shit happen? To us? To me? I didn't even push the goddamn bitch away either. I just stood there like a fucking virgin… and then… I…"

"You kissed back?" Shepard ventured, to which Jack nodded. She was closer to the Commander now, only a foot or two between them.

"And… And I fucking _liked_ it. That's some sick twisted shit there Shepard. And we've been talking. A lot. Sort of… It's hard to say. I can't tell where the hell I stand with her. Where the hell she stands to me. That's fucking scary Shepard. I'm not the fucking dating type. I'm not someone she can cart around on her arm or with a leash. Fuck that shit. I don't do leashes. Been there. Done that. Got the tat to prove it."

"That reminds me, a few of yours need re-inking. Remind me next time we hit Omega," the Commander said absently, eyeing the convict's many flesh decorations. Jack filed the reminder away subconsciously while she continued her rant.

"And I can't fucking think around her. Shit I can't even fucking breath. But I ain't soft. I am not fucking soft Shepard, I am not losing my edge. I can still take down every single one of those goddamn fuckers with one hand and don't you fucking forget it."

"Duly noted," she replied with a smirk. Jack nodded, reassuring herself.

"I fucking hate her…"

"How long you two been seeing each other?"

Jack sat up as if the devil himself had bit her in the ass and her shock quickly turned into a glare that would have left lesser beings pissing themselves. That look never failed to bring a proud sparkle to the Commander's eye, but now wasn't the time for coddling.

"I'm not fucking stupid Jack, you said yourself you two've been hanging out a lot more than necessary. You're sitting here telling me to my face that you kissed. I've been around a lot of blocks before Jack. I know this shit. So just tell me what you need and I'll fucking fix it."

Jack was torn between being tense and relaxing. She settled for another "fuck you" before settling down again. Shepard exhaled silently in relief, they had passed hurdle one. If she worked hard and if Jack cooperated, they just might be able to get whatever this was dealt with. Hell, she would settle for just bringing the problem to light. The Commander eyed the smaller woman, waiting for the next test. Unlike Tali, or Garrus, or any of the others, she had to _work_ to help Jack, and the pair would expect no less of each other.

"…I don't know what the hell you'd call it. Like I said, we aren't even fucking. Just… Feeling and crap…"

"You like her."

Jack didn't reply. She turned and refused to look at the battle wary Commander across from her. She wasn't weak. She couldn't let Shepard think that. Not now.

"Jack, do you like her?"

"Fuck you."

Shepard sighed, rubbed her temples; "Jack, listen to me, and listen to me real good or I swear by the Alliance that I'm going to toss you out of the fucking air lock…" she trailed off until Jack's brown eyes were once again looking at her; "You're upset. Confused. Angrier than sin. I _get_ that. But if you don't tell me what you want I can't help you get it. I'm not a fucking miracle worker, now I'm going to ask you again: Do you like Miranda Lawson?"

"I. Don't. Fucking. Know." Jack hissed, putting emphasis on each word, "How the hell do you _like_ anyone? I fuck people. Kill people. I don't fucking _like_ people. That shit doesn't make any sense…" the former test subject trailed off, trying to sort out the chaos inside her already chaotic mind; Shepard didn't envy the girl, affection of any sort was always harder to master than hate.

"I guess…I guess I don't want to kill her as much."

"That's a good start."

"But I'm not soft."

"I know Jack, I know. You're still the biotic badass bitch that you always were."

"Damn right."

"But you might want to fix you're makeup, I can still see those mascara streaks."

"Fuck you."

Shepard resisted the urge to wince. She hated calling Jack out, but it needed to be done if she was going to get anything else done.

"They look smeared. Did you wipe them away? Or did Lawson?"

Jack had shifted back over to the other side of the bed, putting up more space, more walls between them. Shepard could tell that she was struggling with her emotions; her biotics crackled around her arms.

"_Fuck. You_."

"Jack, it's alight. I mean it. Liara's dried my tears more times than either of us can count…"

Jack whipped her head around; "You cry? You? _The_ fucking Alliance girl-scout butcher?" she asked in shock.

"Yes. And I'm no more of a softie than you are. So tell me. Who?"

Jack swore and turned her head away before thinking the better of it, she looked Shepard dead in the eyes, _daring_ her to mock her, "Lawson."

"I thought so. Her sleeves were black this morning. I assumed this all happened last night?"

Jack nodded.

"I'm not even going to ask if you've talked to her about any of this," she added with a grin. The smaller woman only smirked.

"So. The fuck am I going to do?"

"Well Jack, I'm not going to lie to you. You deserve better than that. So instead I'm going to give you something you can actually use, if you want it. But you had better want it, and you had better fucking listen 'cause I'm not in the goddamn mood for bullshit. Got it?" she asked; she'd be damned if they had made it this far only to regress. And she sure as hell didn't want Jack and the XO back at each other's throats if she could help it. Once she was certain she had jack's attention, and that Jack was actually going to listen to what she had to say, she started in.

"You and Lawson got off to a rocky start. The fact that you two made it this far is a fucking miracle. Now, I'm not going to sit here and tell you how to live your life. You wouldn't listen to me if I did anyway. Now, I know you, and I know Miranda. If you two made it work out you two could have something fucking awesome. Something better than just sex and killing;" she watched as Jack's eyes lit up with the prospect of something better than her only highs, "I'm not saying you two would have it easy, 'cause you the sure the hell wouldn't. You're both stubborn as fuck and as determined as hell. Now, tell me Jack, do you _want_ to make it work with her?"

Jack thought about for a few moments, her emotions swirling across her face. Here, in the darkness of the Normandy, Shepard could always read Jack's face. The biotic seemed unsure of herself and started biting her lip again, once more drawing blood.

"You don't have to decide now, but you do have to decide Jack," said the Specter.

"I do."

"Jac-"

"I wouldn't have fucking got you down here in the middle of ass o'clock at night and fucking split open my guts if I was just going to bale. Please Shepard, you think I'm a goddamn coward or something?"

"You're not a coward if you take your time Jack. In fact that's the only way you and Miranda could work. Slowly. You two seem to be beginning to talk, that's good. Keep that slow. One small step at a time. Don't rush each other. Don't push too hard too often or you two will only get angry at each other."

"What about the... _kisses_?"

Shepard nodded, "Those are fine too. Relationships, _actual_ _relationships_, are different then one night fucks Jack. It's okay to test the waters there too. If fucking each other brainless is what makes you both happy then fine. If you don't feel comfortable with that, lay down a line. A _rule_. Miranda likes rules. They make sense to her. You got a problem with something then _tell_ her. Don't make her grasp around in the dark, throw her something to work with. She'll be more than happy to let you set the paces. But you gotta _try_ Jack. You have to give and take. _Listen_ to her. You don't have to agree, not even remotely, but you meet her halfway and you two will be just fine."

Jack sat quietly, and leaned back, this time not out of need for space, but in pure thought. Shepard watched her gently, her breathing steady, waiting to see the other woman's reaction.

"I'm not fucking soft Shep. I don't do relationships," she whispered, hanging her head as the anger started to set in again, "I'm not cut out for any of that shit."

"Jack, believe me, relationships are the hardest things there are. You have to be incredible brave, stupid, and reckless to get involved with someone. You're giving them a knife to cut you open with essentially. But you do it willingly because you know it'll be a _good _death. And they'll hand you one too, because the only way they'll want to die is by you. It's all fucking bat-shit insane, but it's the most beautiful and fucking exhilarating thing you can ever have Jack. If for no other reason than to _live_ Jack, _try_. If there's a mess afterword I'll be the first one to mop it up."

With that, the Commander thought it best to leave the biotic to her thoughts. As the door was just about to slip shut, she heard the faintest murmur behind her; _"thank you."_

There were some days, she decided, that it was _good_ to be alive again. As she headed up the stairs to set Tali's mind at ease before going back to bed, she decided that she would give Jack a bit of space for a few days, and would have a nice little chat with her resident Cerberus girl; just to make sure things went a bit more smoothly. The last thing she needed was a lover's spat in the middle of her ship. Even less in the heat of battle.

* * *

Jack watched silently as she watched the Commander leave her little pit of red-lit solitude. She always left. Everyone always left. Everyone always hurt. Always lied. Always looking out only for themselves. Except maybe Shepard, she relented. But that was ok, Shepard was different, different then everyone. Not _better_. Never better. Just different. That was ok. Shepard knew what she was doing. Wasn't soft. Loved an Asari. Killed the bitch's mother for her. Killed Miranda's old squeeze too so that way the Cheerleader wouldn't have to live with the guilt. Slaughtered goddamn thousands in Torfan. Managed to save almost every sob story and space trash she found, like herself. Bitch had problems, sure, but she always knew what she was doing. Always came out on top from what she'd seen. From what the other's said. Hell, Grunt was certain the sun shined from his Battlemaster's ass. Not that she could blame the brute. Shepard was a mother to the guy.

Fucking bitch. Knowing all goddamn everything. 'Cept what she didn't know. She sighed.

She had her answers, what few she had managed to ask for. She would talk to the Commander again soon, to keep the confusion and the red hot anger from her head for awhile longer. For now, she just wanted to pass out for a day or two. She curled up on her cot, the heat from the ship itself providing more than enough warmth, the scratchy sheets providing more than enough comfort. With the life she had had, these things were a fucking luxury. Shepard of course had offered better things, but had backed off when she had refused them. Shepard hadn't pushed. She fucking understood. Fucking understood everything. Even the Cheerleader bitch…

Fine. She would talk with her. They had already fucking kissed right? There was no such thing as dignity. Shepard had said it would be the fucking hardest thing she'd ever do. Fine. She was up to the challenge. If the Cheerleader wasn't then she'd just fucking crush her inside out like she wanted before, whether or not Shepard told her not to. It was all stupid anyway. Life and death was easy. Feelings tore you up and burned you out until you were little more than a damn shell. Like those fucking husk shit things they kept running into. Shepard might have been able to last this long with her Asari bitch but there was no way in hell that she could last with the Cheerleader.

But she would try. _Just this once_. Because _fuck _everything, she was going to live.

* * *

Miranda was rubbing her hands together again, occasionally lacing her fingers together and bring them to her lips before undoing them and repeating the whole process over again. Her eyes darted across her office several times, but they were always brought back to her screens. Her link to the Illusive Man, always opened should anything arise the _split_ second it happened, the screen tracking Shepard about the ship, for more or less the same reason, and the third, smaller window off to the side focused on only one room in the bowels of the ship. Jack's room. Currently both she and the Commander were asleep, but she had heard every word of their conversation. Jack would come to her again. More than likely The Commander would also want to speak with her as well, probably threaten to break every bone in her body if things went sour with Jack. She hadn't meant it. The kiss. It was only the heat of the moment, the mascara stained tears down those wretched cheeks.

Her nails bit into her palm but still she wrung her hands; she couldn't do this. She was the Executive Officer of the Normandy SR-2 and the right hand of both the Illusive man and the Commander Shepard. The mission didn't allow for… personal things to get in the way. Her sister had been a dire emergency and Shepard had indulged the operation. She couldn't press her luck further. Not when it would only end badly anyway. Jack was immature, childish. Filled with emotional turmoil while she herself was the 'ice-bitch' who was incapable of feeling anything at all. She was a husk. Merely the tool her father had wanted her to be. Now, she was in different hands but she was still a tool. As Jack was. As they _all_ were, really.

She stared at the two sleeping figures. They would come, yes, and the XO was certain that the Commander would tip the scales, again, and she would obey, again, how could she not? The Commander was usually right about things, and Miranda didn't kid herself when it came to following her superior officer. She would follow the Commander into the very pits of hell, as the Commander was the only one who had truly been there and clawed her way back out. Her files on Shepard's days in the Red's and on Torfan testified enough alone. The Commander had one weakness however, one she probably didn't even know she had, however, after spending two years piecing the Specter back together she was certain of her assessment. The Commander was deeply attached to her crew. They were her family. The only ones the woman allowed herself to connect to. It was why she became so violent and distraught whenever something happened to any of them. Why she would jump at the chance to solve any of their problems, fix any of their mistakes. It was both endearing and frightening.

If Shepard thought that she and Jack belonged together, she would likely stop at nothing to make it so. The spacer also had a softspot for the ex-con, to the point where it was speculated across the ship that the tattoo covered biotic was actually one of Shepard's favorites next to Tali Garrus, and Grunt. This of course was purely rumor and codswallop, as she knew Shepard couldn't bare the thought of favoring any one member of her crew over another. Liara T'Soni of course was a different matter entirely, and Miranda often felt herself wondering what the Commander would do if she ever had to choose between her crew and the only person she had allowed herself to love.

She quickly brushed those thoughts away and looked at her omni-pad. It was either far too late or far too early for her to be awake. Luckily, all her years of experience and dedication had limited her body's need for sleep, or perhaps that was unlucky for the present time, since meant she would be continually staring at her screens for a few more dozen hours. Or until the two women showed up in her room, whichever came first. Damnit. She wasn't prepared for this. How could she be? She knew she shouldn't have spent so much time with the former test subject. Shouldn't have let her inside. Shouldn't have let her head be clouded by Shepard only knew what. Her boss was going to be displeased in the most dire sense of the word when he found out…

As she sat looked at the screens, she honestly couldn't choose who she would rather talk to first.

* * *

It was to be Shepard, she found, when the alert pinged quietly from her desk. She rolled over before pushing herself off of the bed. She had taken roughly an hour to recharge when her eyes had become too blurred to continue watching the screens. She hadn't felt up to the risk of venturing to Garnder's Mess area for coffee and frankly the coffee tasted worse than the Krogan piss the Commander passed off as liquor. The Commander had fine tastes in some areas; the liquor department didn't seem to be one of them and personally, she blamed the woman's time in the Alliance.

She straightened herself out, made her bed, and quickly brushed her hair as the Commander began her decent in the elevator. She hadn't given the woman anything but strict professionalism and she wasn't about to let the slip now. She changed into a fresh uniform for good measure and sat at her desk before taking a glance around. Feeling quite satisfied she laced her hands together and waited. She didn't have to wait long.

"Morning Commander, sleep well?"

"Cut the small talk Lawson I got important shit to toss around."

Miranda nodded as Shepard sat in the chair in front of her desk. She was mildly surprised when specter handed her a cup before taking a sip of her own. She took a whiff and smirked; "Really Commander? My favorite brand? You're going to make T'Soni jealous."

"Didn't do shit. It was in my desk drawer. Which I'm pretty sure _you_ put together. At any rate Lawson, I brought it 'cause no doubt you'll need it."

"Ah," was all she managed to reply. There was a time for eloquence and a time to simply leave enough alone, this, she felt, was one of those latter times; "I presume then, that this shall either be about Cerberus or… Jack."

Shepard took another sip of coffee before replying calmly, "You already know how I feel about that _damn_ organization and you already know that I trust you enough just fine. So _yes_, this _is_ about Jack. I expect you heard what happened last night?"

Miranda lowered her eyes and swung her chair around slightly; "Only because I feared the implications of what would happen when she had barged into the loft. Truthfully…I had thought…"

"You thought she was going to kill me in my sleep?"

"It was an… unlikely situation that hadn't previously crossed my mind as she clearly enjoys watching her victims suffer in combat. I had thought that if she were too... it would be face to face when you were quite capable of fighting against her."

"She'd be so _happy_ knowing how much _faith_ you have in her."

"Shepard, please, it was a mistake on my part but it was only out of valid concern. Jack is dangerous, you cannot deny that. And yet I know full well of what you are about to ask me to do."

"And what might that be?"

"For goodness sake's Shepard!" she shouted, slamming her hands against her desk as she stood, "Don't color me stupid, I was bred to have the highest intelligence money can buy! I _heard_ your conversation, I _know_ what's already been brewing, I _know_ you Commander. Better than you know yourself. I spent two years putting you back together…" she continued in a more quite manner as she sat down again; "You want me to… to…" she stammered, unwilling to utter what she felt would cement her fate.

"Talk with Jack. Just talk," she clarified when Miranda's eyes shot up; "that's all I'm asking. She's lost and fumbling in the dark just like you are. You don't want her, fine, but you break her down again and I'm going to have another chat with you after I mop up the mess. Assuming she still trusts me afterwards. -You're free to make your own choices Miranda, just as Jack is free to make hers."

"No good can come of this Shepard."

"Now what makes you say that?"

"She's… she's… She's a mistake! An anomaly! Something that wasn't supposed to happen but has anyway! We had been speaking to each other. For awhile. Most of it led to arguing but there were moments when we were able to push that aside and…" Miranda huffed and sighed, her long hair falling over her sculpted face; "I took advantage of her weakness Shepard. By kissing her I have put strange ideas in her head that I shall take full consequence for. I know I must speak with her Commander, and I know that I must refuse her for all our sakes."

"You don't mean a fucking word of that and you know it. This isn't a business deal Lawson, this is all that touchy-feely crap that drives you and Jack up the wall. _Talk _to her. Give her a chance. Have a little faith."

"Have faith in what Commander?"

"Everything," Shepard replied, taking another sip of coffee, "Everything."

Miranda only eyed the Commander warily in reply.

* * *

"So. Cheerleader."

"Hello Jack," Miranda replied tiredly. There had been a lot of reports today and she still hadn't recovered from her talk with Shepard the day prior. Still, she pushed her work aside, brushed a few stay hairs from her face, and looked up at the ex-convict.

Jack looked the same as she had a few nights before; just as scared, hurt and lost. Tonight however, there was something new to the mix, alighting just within the younger woman's trembling lips. The corners of her eyes. The nervous twitching of the biotic's hands.

_Hope._

Miranda felt her heart churn again. Curse her to Purgatory, the girl hadn't even been in her office five minutes and already her stomach was in knots. She gave a quick gesture to chair, offering her guest a seat, but the shaved headed ex-con shook her head and remained standing. Miranda stood too, slowly, playing the game on Jack's terms.

"I… I assume you have need of me somehow?" she asked quietly. Better to feign ignorance a little longer and keep the super biotic at ease. Better to keep _herself_ at ease.

"I… Fuck. I've been thinking about things, okay?"

"I assume that means about you and myself?"

"Yeah, and don't you dare say that none of it never fucking happened either because you and I both know that it fucking _did_."

Miranda nodded, slowly, her hair swishing gently as it did so; "Lying is as pathetic as it is ineffective," she agreed, "I should hope that we are above such things."

Jack's eyebrows knit and she clenched her fists as forced out her reply; "And you think that you're above me Cheerleader, don't you? That because Daddy built you perfect that you get to be special?"

"We've had this conversation before Jack, and it never goes well; what are you trying to say?"

"You're not above me. You've _talked_ with me. _Kissed _me."

"Maybe I pitied you."

"You don't kiss people if you pity them Princess."

"Are you suggesting that I like you?"

"I'm telling you that you want someone. Maybe even me, and that maybe... Maybe _I_ need something. Someone. And maybe that's even _you_. I mean, who the fuck knows right?"

"You do… have a point, however crass you might have put it," she conceded. She watched the other woman light up in confidence and Miranda found herself drawn to those lips again. They looked like they had been bleeding recently. She remembered kissing them that night and tasting copper. _How would they taste now?_ She wondered.

"Fuck we would be unstoppable together you know? Roaming space, lookin' out for ourselves, stealing what we want from who we want. No rules or anything. No Cerberus, no Shepard, no Alliance."

"No regrets," she smiled softly, walking closer to Jack, "A nice thought but a tad impractical."

"Yeah, well, I don't see _you_ coming up with any ideas Cheerleader," Jack taunted, closing the distance between them; she liked the fire, the heat, it was the only thing that made any fucking sense. But she stopped Miranda's hands, kept the fire from burning her up.

The XO pulled back, confused; wasn't this what Jack wanted?

"I… I don't understand," she said truthfully. Had she messed up already?

"Slow go Cheerleader. I'm gonna call the shots for awhile. Take it real slowlike too. Plenty of time for us to bail if the boat sinks."

"How noble of you."

"Shut it Princess. As far as I'm concerned you got us into this mess. Now you get to pay up for it. So," Jack said sharply, catching Miranda's wrists with a jerk, "You want me or not?" she asked loudly, covering up her fear in bravado. The XO knew Jack was talking about more than just sex, then just another experiment. She was asking for everything. Could she even give the ex-con everything? Her body surly, and whatever the tattooed covered woman wanted of her mind, yes, but personality? Soul? Love? How could she offer something she didn't know if she possessed?

"_Have a little faith."_

"_Have faith in what Commander?"_

"_Everything," Shepard replied, "Everything."_

The memory flashed briefly through her mind as she stared at the escaped test subject, and she felt confidence begin to fill her bloodstream.

"I do Jack. I do. -But first's thing's first," she began, catching Jack's wrists in the spur of the moment, causing a wonderful little blush to race across Jack's face before disappearing into a scowl;"my _name_, is _Miranda_."

* * *

Jack sat curled up in her lap, her head against perfect breasts. She could hear the older woman's heart beating. Silently, she grabbed a fistful of the black rubbery uniform and pushed herself closer to the XO, as if she could melt into her entirely. They both said nothing, each afraid that words would break the moment, because one of them to say something damaging, again, as they both seemed so ready to do. Instead the pair stayed silent, only heartbeats and breath, Miranda's arms wrapped around the smaller muscular girl. They stayed for hours like that. Happily, even despite the inevitable soreness and loss of feelings in their limbs that stemmed from their prolonged inaction.

Eventually however, the confusion came swirling back inside Jack's mind and she bit her lip, debating on whether or not to break the silence.

"Miranda?" she whispered, barley letting the foreign word off her lips, "do you like me?" she whispered even quieter.

When she heard no response, she looked up at Miranda's face, only to find the woman dead asleep. She should be angry, a part of her thought; but Jack was far too busy trailing her fingers over the sleeping face to pay the voice much attention. She could wait; at the moment everything was fine and for now, that was enough.

Eventually the feathery light touches aroused the perfectionist from her slumber and her eyes slowly fluttered awake. She said nothing as Jack continued, sometimes tilting her head or closing her eyes as needed to give the other female an easier time. Soon, the small fingers trailed along the officer's lips, causing Miranda to moan.

Jack slowly sat up, straddling the older women, and slowly, so slowly, pressed her lips against Miranda's. Her hands stayed quietly on the XO's shoulders, too afraid to stray.

It was Miranda, who trailed her fingers along Jack's exposed flesh, causing the girl to groan. She grinned as Jack shivered and pressed herself against the girl again, wrapped her tattooed arms around her neck. Miranda smiled and hugged the girl closer, enjoying the feel and the warmth.

"Miranda?" came a quiet whisper.

"Yes Jack?" she replied, surprised to hear her name on the woman's tongue.

"Do you like me?"

"I wouldn't be holding you if I didn't now would I?"

"Say it. Say it for me."

"I like you Jack."

She felt the smaller girl tremble and it took the officer a moment to realize the girl was crying. Miranda said nothing, choosing instead to rub soothing circles on the ex-con's back. There was a time for eloquence, and a time for letting things simply be and with Jack, it was usually the latter. She was becoming more used to it, she found.

After a few moments when the biotic had quieted she sat up, her face caught between a pout and a glare.

"If you ever tell Shepard about that I'm going to tear you apart."

"Duly noted."

"Good. Then let's see who the boss lady is blowing up today, I have a score to win and I'm not letting Grunt rack up any more of his bodycount if I can help it."

"Want a hand?"

Jack, surprised, grinned devilishly and replied, "Why the fuck not?"

* * *

.

.

.

.

**So I wrote that... **

**... and everyone is out of character, and there's no real plot... **

**Could have done better, but there ya have it, just a little shipping fic. **


End file.
